One Love (Times a Dozen)

True story: Before I met my husband, I used to have dreams about my “Prince Charming.” He was wonderful and handsome, generous and loving, compassionate and sweet.

But he never had a face.

After I fell in love with Chris, my Prince Charming had a face in my dreams.

And no, it wasn’t Jake Gyllenhaal.

It was my husband’s face. That’s romantic. Get it?

Chris and I  love each other tremendously. The thing is, we — like so many other couples — get lost in the everyday. The minutiae. The nonsense. We go through the rhythms of bill paying and appointment making and pet feeding. We have a morning routine, an evening routine and, at times, a lovemaking routine.

But sometimes, randomness happens. Like this.

And I didn’t even have to blow him  for it.

I’ve been in love and been loved. But no one’s ever given me a dozen long-stemmed roses — especially not when I’m wearing ill-fitting yoga pants, no bra and last night’s breakfast-for-dinner in my hair.

I think I’ll keep him for a while.